


Busy Day, Silent Night

by Ray_Writes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: A typical Christmas in the Noble-Mott household.





	Busy Day, Silent Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phoebemaybe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebemaybe/gifts).



> So this was loosely based off a prompt phoebemaybe gave me about Donna and the Doctor falling asleep together out of sheer exhaustion, and then it turned into a Christmas thing with Wilf and Sylvia because why not. I hope you enjoy, and happy holidays to everyone!

Christmases never really turned out the way they used to anymore, not since that year with the alien face on the telly and the people on the roof, and certainly not since Donna had met the alien who constituted her date to these things.

Wilf wasn’t complaining of course. The Doctor was one of the most fascinating people he’d ever met, and it was clear Donna absolutely adored him as he did her. Not like that Lance fellow she’d been planning to marry. They were all well rid of that as far as he was concerned.

Of course, Sylvia wasn’t very happy with Donna’s current choice of partner.

“It’ll be just like her not even to turn up,” she’d been saying all the last week as she’d gone about buying presents and groceries to make a feast fit for ten people, let alone four. “When’s the last time they’ve even been by?”

Nevertheless, Donna and the Doctor arrived in the blue box Christmas morning with a whole sack of presents.

“You should see what he’s gotten me,” his granddaughter remarked. “We’re being spoilt, all of us.”

“Donna, gift-giving is the entire point of Christmas,” the Doctor insisted. “Well, that and peace on Earth, goodwill, that sort of thing. But, it’s hard to be in ill will when you’ve got presents!”

And what presents! Wilf received some sort of contraption the Doctor promised to set up later; a device that projected holographic starfields onto the ceiling, and Donna went on about all the different ones it contained.

“That way, if you ever get bored of the old Milky Way, you’ve got something else to look at,” she said.

Sylvia unwrapped a set of earrings Donna had picked out on some planet in the future. Apparently, the gems were made of some material that didn’t exist on Earth. Sylvia sniffed and deemed them acceptable, but they all were able to tell by the way she immediately got up to tuck them away in her jewelry box that she was really quite pleased.

They made it about halfway through unwrapping presents when a loud  _ boom _ shook the floor and rattled the windows.

“And  _ that _ was…?” Donna asked.

“Probably a ship entering the atmosphere,” the Doctor answered, frozen with the tie Sylvia had begrudgingly bought him halfway unopened. He dropped the packaging and sprung to his feet, bending back over to place a chaste kiss on Donna’s lips. “Sorry. Just, um, carry on without me for a minute.”

He’d not even made it out of the room before Donna had stood up with a roll of her eyes. “Won’t be a minute,” she excused herself as well, then hurried after her alien.

Wilf and Sylvia sat there blinking across at each other for several minutes until the wheezing of the Doctor’s ship could be heard.

“Oh,” Sylvia huffed, then stood and retreated to the kitchen. “Suppose they’ll still be expecting dinner even after running out on their hosts.”

“Well, if it can’t be helped, it can’t be helped,” Wilfred reasoned. “Aliens on Christmas. It’s getting to be tradition, you know.”

“Hm. Well it’s one I could do without.”

The morning went on. Wilf completed his task of gathering up the wrappings from the floor, then entered the kitchen in the hopes of a biscuit or two. Instead, he found Sylvia on the phone.

“Well how long does he think you’ll be? Am I supposed to just keep the turkey in the oven till it pleases you to come home?”

“Would you rather we just let the aliens make themselves at home on the planet, mum?” He was able to hear Donna’s voice on the other end.

“You don’t come round all that often, you know. And when are we supposed to see you if you run off when you  _ are _ home?”

He was practically able to hear the guilt in Donna’s voice as she replied, “I’m sorry. Look, I’ll try and hurry him along.”

“Donna!” The Doctor’s voice called distantly. “We’ve got to move! That door won’t hold them forever!”

“Coming!” His granddaughter hollered. “Just save us a plate, alright? Love you.” She hung up shortly after.

His daughter shut her phone with a sigh.

“What are you bothering them for?” He asked. “They’ve got plenty to worry about what with them aliens.”

“I just don’t see why they had to leave in the middle of Christmas. That box travels in time doesn’t it? Why can’t they just sort it tomorrow?”

“Cos it doesn’t work like that!”

“Well how does it work?”

He knew it had something to do with personal timelines or some such; Donna had tried to explain it once, but he didn’t have the whole thing clear. Wilf went back out to the sitting room instead and turned on the telly. The news didn’t have anything to report aside from the ship that continued to hover overhead.

The smell of baked goods began to waft from the kitchen a little after one, and it was clear Sylvia was just looking for things to do while they waited. They still hadn’t heard anything from Donna or the Doctor well into the afternoon, though neither of them would have been able to anticipate just how that would change!

He’d just settled into a chair for the Queen’s Speech. As she appeared on the screen, he made sure to sit up as straight as he could manage these days.

Yet before she was able to begin, a very familiar wheezing sound emanated from the telly. Wilfred watched in stupefied silence as the blue box came phasing into view just behind the Queen. The doors opened, and out stepped the Doctor and Donna.

“Hello!” The Doctor greeted brightly.

“Oh, hello, Doctor,” the Queen said. “Merry Christmas.”

“And to you!”

“Hold on, you two know each other?” Donna asked.

“Sylvia! Hey, Sylvia! You’d better come and look at this!” Wilf called.

“Oh, dad, it’s the same thing every year,” Sylvia said as she’d banged pots and pans together.

He turned back to the telly just as the Doctor began to speak.

“Oh, Elizabeth, this is Donna. Donna, Elizabeth II.”

“Yeah, I know who the Queen is, Spaceman.”

“Might I ask what brings you fully into my home on this Christmas Day?” Asked the Queen.

A couple of men in suits had moved into sight, partly blocking his view of things. "You two can't be in here. How did they get in here?"

“Oh, right! We wouldn’t have, but it’s sort of important.”

“Sorry about this. Oh, and sorry, Gramps,” Donna added.

The Doctor gave Donna a look. “What are you apologizing to Wilf for?”

“He watches this every year, looks forward to it. I mean it, he just loves your speech,” she added, looking back over her shoulder at the Queen. His granddaughter, talking to the Queen! And about him!

The Doctor looked straight at the telly. “Oh. Well, sorry for the interruption then, Wilf. But the Veero are monitoring all communications and broadcasts on this planet right now, and this seemed to be the best way to reach out. Paying attention yet?” He asked of an unseen viewer. “Brilliant.”

“Basically, we want you to just go back where you came from,” Donna said bluntly.

“Right. No fighting. This is meant to be a day of peace and goodwill, which is lucky for you because you wouldn’t last a day against this lot. You see this?” He walked over to a tree that stood near the back corner of the room and prodded at a bit of tinsel. “This stuff is made out of a mineral you call The Slow Poison. It may not stop you quickly, but it will stop you painfully. And humans, they bring it into their homes by the armful every Christmas!” 

He wheeled back around to face the telly, a very serious look on his face.

“So I’d think it over before invading this planet, wouldn’t you?”

“Is that it, then? Cos mum’s fussing about the turkey,” said Donna.

The Doctor blinked. “Er, I think that’s about it.”

“Lovely. Merry Christmas, Your Majesty.” Donna took the Doctor by the hand and pulled him back towards the blue box.

“Right, just — just carry on,” the Doctor added before the door shut. The two men in suits hurried forward, but it faded away moments later.

“Dad, what’s Suzette on about the Queen’s Speech for?” He heard Sylvia ask in the next room. “She’s texting me something about Donna.”

“Oh, er, nothing.” From outside came the noise of the Doctor’s ship, and so he added, “Well, here they come now.”

Sylvia set Donna straight to work in the kitchen with her as soon as the two had gotten through the front door, though the Doctor nearly went right after them.

“Anything I can do, Sylvia?”

“I certainly hope not.”

“Mum, alien men from the future know how to cook,” Donna insisted. But it was Sylvia’s kitchen and Sylvia’s rules. Donna grimaced and looked to the Doctor again. “Just sit tight with Gramps a minute. I’ll get you to set the table later.”

Wilf led their discouraged guest back through to the sitting room. It was pretty obvious to all of them that this was Sylvia’s version of punishment, separating him and Donna.

“Did your people have their own Christmas songs?” Wilf asked as he switched on the radio, hoping to raise some holiday spirit.

“My people didn’t have Christmas anything. Didn’t celebrate it. I didn’t either till I first started coming to Earth.”

“Oh! Well, I wouldn’t have known it with how well you’ve taken to it. And Donna, too, she didn’t used to hold with all the getting up early and unwrapping the presents together and all that.”

“I’ve heard,” the Doctor remarked, lips twitching with amusement.

“Of course, best present any of us could’ve gotten was you stepping in with those whatsits. Veeorgs.”

“Veeoro,” the alien corrected him. 

“Right. But tinsel! I mean, just imagine. That’s proper clever of you.”

“You think so? Good job Donna remembered you lot make it mostly out of synthetic material now. We had to make a trip to the 17th century to get the proper thing for UNIT so they’d have it on hand.”

“UNIT?”

“The Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” he explained. “I’ve worked with them a fair bit over the years. Once you get them pointed in the right direction, they’re good on follow-through. They can handle things while I spend Christmas with you all,” the Doctor finished with a grin.

“Yeah, might as well let them deal with it since they’re getting paid to be on duty,” Donna added, entering the sitting room with a plate of biscuits. “They get extra compensation for the holiday, right?”

The Doctor shrugged as he helped himself to two or three of them. “I never really bothered with the finances of things.”

“Hold on, did  _ you _ get paid? You said you worked for them. Have you got a bunch of money stored up somewhere?”

The alien had to swallow down his mouthful of biscuits before answering. “Maybe. I really didn’t pay much attention.”

Donna rolled her eyes and dropped into a chair now that she’d given Sylvia the slip. “You see what I have to deal with on a daily basis? He’s a bloody genius, but he misses the simplest stuff.”

“Well, that’s what I’ve got you for,” the Doctor said as he perched on the arm of her chair. Donna smiled up at him and laid a hand on his knee.

A second  _ boom _ threatened to send the alien sprawling into her lap.

“Was that them leaving?” Wilf asked.

Before either of them could answer, Slade’s “Merry Xmas Everybody” stopped playing on the radio mid-song, only to be replaced by the voice of an announcer.

_ “We’ve just received word a second unidentified craft has entered our atmosphere over British airspace. Officials continue to tell the public to remain calm.” _

“I’m taking that as a no,” said Donna.

“Hold on.” The Doctor stood and took out a mobile. Wilf and Donna tried their best to follow a very quick, heated conversation.

“What’s happening? Well, that’s not right, it should have worked. No, don’t keep trying. Pull those troops back. I’ve just got to figure something else out.”

He hung up and began pacing back and forth in front of the tree, his brow furrowed and a frown etched deeply into his face.

“So what’d we get wrong?” Donna prompted. “Can’t be the wrong tinsel, unless we got fleeced, and there really isn’t any silver in it.”

“No, you’re right, it can’t be the tinsel.” 

“Well, what else? Can’t be the wrong aliens.”

The Doctor froze in place, then slowly swiveled on the spot towards her. “No, I think it  _ is  _ the wrong alien.”

“What?”

But the Doctor had already started rifling through the unwrapped presents Wilf had set to one side of the room.

“Wilf, we’re going to get your starfield set up right now. There’s something I need to check.”

He and Donna followed after the alien to his room and watched as the Doctor tapped at a couple buttons and then set the device on his bedside table.

“Alright, the Carveana galaxy, home of the the Veeoro.”

Wilfred gaped up at the vast expanse of stars entirely unfamiliar to him, but the Doctor immediately began scanning the image closely, a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s see, let’s see, think,” he muttered to himself.

“What are we looking for? Their planet?” Asked Donna.

“Not quite. Oh! Oh, of  _ course _ , it’s not the Veeoro at all!” The Doctor declared.

“It’s not?” Wilf asked.

“No, it’s the Veeor _ i _ . They’re cousins of the Veeoro from a satellite orbiting their planet. See that one right there?” He pointed to a tiny orange-looking light nearby a larger, brighter one. “Evolved similarly but separately, so they haven’t got the same reaction to the silver in the tinsel.”

“Great, so our plan is useless,” Donna stated.

“Maybe, but I’ve got a better one! They’re immune to tinsel but extremely susceptible to loud, high-pitched noises. Their ears are too sensitive at those decibels to stand it. It creates a sort of ringing in their ears.”

“If you’re about to say you need to borrow my mum,” Donna warned.

“Good idea, but no. We need bells!”

“Bells? Where are we supposed to get bells?”

“Easy, Donna.” The Doctor beamed at her. “It’s Christmas!”

Her eyes went wide as she practically jumped in place, and her hands reached for him. “The church!”

Wilf watched as she yanked the Doctor right out of the room and listened as, minutes later, the front door slammed.

“What, have they gone again?” Sylvia called from the kitchen.

“Oh, I’d think so.” He sat back on his bed and continued watching the stars up above him. “But they’ll be back.”

Eventually he went back out to the sitting room. There weren’t any more radio announcements and the news didn’t have anything to report. He supposed they’d just have to wait to hear back from Donna and the Doctor. They were the ones who really knew what was happening whenever these aliens showed up.

“When did they say they’d be coming back this time?” Sylvia demanded from the kitchen. Wilfred had lost track of how many times.

“Well, they can’t come back till they’ve got it sorted. It’s cause you wanted them home so badly they got it wrong the first time.”

It was almost dark outside now, and it was just as the sun finally sank past the horizon that they heard the ship arriving again. Wilfred and Sylvia both went to the front door to welcome the pair, who looked a bit worn out frankly as they came up the front path.

“I think my hands are about to fall off from all that ringing,” said Donna.

“You were quite good, though,” the Doctor praised. “Maybe you ought to join a bell choir.”

“Ha! I don’t think so.”

“So that’s it, then?” Wilf checked. “They’re leaving?”

“Should be,” said the Doctor. Twin  _ booms _ shook the ground again, and Wilfred caught himself on the wall. “That’s them gone.”

“Well, all in a day’s work, then!” He gave an astonished laugh. “That’s really something, that is.”

“Oh, it shouldn’t have taken half as long,” the Doctor replied as he followed Wilfred back to the sitting room. “Bit embarrassing I mixed up the Veeori with the Veeoro, really.”

“You hear that?” Donna remarked from behind them. “Him being humble. That’s a Christmas miracle.”

“I’ll say,” Sylvia agreed.

“Blimey, they’re a pair when they work together,” the Doctor said under his breath. Wilfred nodded in commiseration.

“You want anymore help with dinner, mum?” Donna offered as the cane upon the archway into the kitchen.

Sylvia hesitated, then said, “No, I think you’ve had enough to do running off invaders. Just go and wait with the men.”

There was no missing the relieved look on Donna’s face as she dragged herself over to the sofa and dropped onto it. The Doctor threw himself down next to her moments later.

“I really am sorry about running out on you and Sylvia today, Wilf,” the alien said as Donna leaned her head on his shoulder, and he rested his cheek on her in turn. “Should’ve expected it. Ought to just drop Donna off with you next year—”

“Oi, don’t even think about it.” His granddaughter cut the alien off with a prod to his side. He squirmed a bit, but seemed either too comfortable or too tired to move away.

Wilf gave an approving nod. “That’s right, Doctor. Our girl knows just where she’s supposed to be.”

“Hm.” The Doctor smiled and laced the fingers of one hand through Donna’s. “That’s true.”

“Why don’t I see what we’ve got to start off with? Sylvia’s always got some sort of nibbles ready before dinner, and you look like you could use the energy,” Wilf told them.

He also thought they could do with a quiet moment to themselves before tucking into a big family meal. Even if they’d been off together all day, Wilf doubted they’d had any time to appreciate it.

In the kitchen, it looked as though his daughter had calmed down now that aliens were no longer ruining her Christmas — either by invading the planet or stealing her daughter away to stop it.

“You know they only meant well going to help with those, those — oh, I’ve forgot what they’re called again.”

“Of course I know. But why’s it got to be up to Donna to get called away on Christmas and, and save the whole Earth?”

“Because she’s good at it. And she likes doing it. You know she’s never liked Christmas all that well, but you should see her out there right now. Happier than ever.”

Sylvia didn’t acknowledge his words verbally, but he thought her gaze softened just a tad. She really did want the best for her daughter at heart, even if it didn’t always agree with what she  _ thought _ was best. But he supposed that was what being a parent was about sometimes. 

“Well, tell them there’s food on the table. If they’re still here. It’s awfully quiet.”

Wilf shuffled out to the sitting room again, his granddaughter’s name on his lips, but the sight he was met with gave him pause.

Their guests were still present contradictory to what Sylvia had assumed. She was correct, however, that their usual chatter has quieted, and it was plain to see why.

They were both fast asleep along the length of the sofa, the Doctor’s long legs nearly sticking out over the armrest while also tangled with Donna’s. She was curled up into his chest with a gentle smile on her lips and her hands clutching tiny fistfuls of his shirt. Wilf couldn’t see what expression the Doctor wore, for his nose was in Donna’s hair, but the way his arms were wrapped around her was a good indication.

Wilf carefully removed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over the pair. Neither of them woke, though Donna snuggled in closer to her alien, and he thought he saw the Doctor’s arms tighten around her waist as well. He straightened back up with a smile.

“Peace on Earth, ha.” Wilf went about the room switching off all the lights until only the twinkling of the tree washed the room in a warm, multicolored glow. He stopped in the open archway, looking back at the blissfully slumbering pair.

“Merry Christmas, you two.”

Sylvia could always save them a plate for later.


End file.
